The other night, my wife and I were preparing to cook dinner. She mentioned a recipe she had seen recently that involved rosemary. I mentioned to her that I frequently forget that rosemary is out there and rarely remember until my sister Becca comes over. I often associate foods with various family members. Dad is bread. Mom is cookies (generally, but if I had to choose, probably snickerdoodles). My oldest sister Kate is beer (she’s a cicerone). Becca (the middle sibling, with me being the youngest) is probably rosemary.
Rosemary is, in part, a generalization for herbs. Becca gardens and, though she’s spent a great deal of time with vegetables and cut flowers, I often associate her with herbs. She keeps herbs on her window sills and brings herbs from her gardens to family gatherings. I don’t guess there’s any particular reason why I associate her more with rosemary than with basil or oregano, but I do.
On Thanksgiving she brought over mashed potatoes with rosemary. They were fragrant and tart and delicious. The next night I bought a bundle of rosemary and used it for everything I cooked that week.